


Short Story #1

by AsceOfSpades



Series: AotC Universe [2]
Category: Original Work, The Adventures of the Carnaster
Genre: F/F, F/M, Fantasy, Not Strictly Canon, Toto we're not in Vontrol anymore, spinoff of AotC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2017-10-06
Packaged: 2019-01-09 15:35:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12279402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AsceOfSpades/pseuds/AsceOfSpades
Summary: Aerwyn and Esmeé have a real meeting. It goes as well as you'd expect.





	Short Story #1

Esmeé rolled over, sour taste in her mouth that could only have one source. With a groan, her eyes popped open, expecting to be met with the dark wood of her cabin ceiling. Instead, the silhouette of a very exasperated girl loomed over her, as if to remind her of her poor decision making.

“How are you?” The silhouette asked, in a voice louder than it should have been. Esmeé made a sound in the back of her throat, not unlike a growl, and pulled her pillow over her face. The silhouette walked to the curtains near the back of the room and pulled them open, the midday sunlight invading every corner of the room. It walked back to the bed and yanked the pillow away from Esmeé’s face. Ienje, no longer an outline of a person but a blob of colour, also took her blanket, depositing both under the window.

“If you aren’t out in thirty minutes I won’t be nice about it.” The door slammed behind her.

“You weren’t nice about it anyway.” Esmeé murmured to herself, hand attempting to cover her eyes. A headache was beginning to pound… everywhere. With a final, pitiful moan, she dragged herself from the bed to get ready.

 

* * *

 

On deck, bathing in the sunshine, Raylan and Hayme lied with their hands intertwined. They laughed at their own stupid jokes, setting the crew of _Thale’s Wrath_ on edge. A passing crew member glared over at them, but when their eyes left the joyful pair, they found hazel eyes staring into their own, causing them to turn away from the person they belonged to. Aerwyn stared after them long after they had gone.

Zelera was sitting with her back against the main mast, facing the captain’s cabin. Even though she was engrossed in her book, she noticed when the captain herself stepped on the deck. How could she not? As if it had been rehearsed, every crew member stopped what they were doing, cupped their mouths, and shouted.

“Good morning Cap’n!” Esmeé wanted to curl in a hole and die, and obviously Ienje wanted her to do the same.

“Ah bugger off, all of you!” She shouted right back, though the reaction made her ache even more. Zelera grinned at the rambunctious captain and closed her book, marking her page as she stood.

“Captain Jacobse? We didn’t have time to talk, and I wanted to-” Zelera was cut off at the raised hand she was given.

“Take it up with Ienje, I’m too hungover to deal with a couple of stowaways.” She walked up to the helm, but before she could speak with her helmsman, a scout from above caught her attention.

“Cap’n? Trouble on the horizon.” Serrah, the scout, threw down the spyglass she was using and pointed to the west. “Flags are Vontrolian, they haven’t seen us yet.”

“Yet. They will, though. Keagan, take us to that ship.” Esmeé threw the spyglass back up, but missed Serrah by a long shot. The crew watched in relative silence as it plonked into the water. Raylan and Hayme were the first to break the silence as they laughed, clutching at each other. Esmeé bit her lip to keep from joining in the laughter.

“You lot! Make yourselves useful or get below deck!” She yelled at the misfit stowaways. Hayme and Zelera followed that order, going to watch over Naranta, still asleep and in peace. Raylan and Aerwyn, though, brought themselves before Esmeé.

“This’ll be fun, right?” He asked, grin lighting up his face. Aerwyn frowned worriedly.

“This is serious. You could die.” She turned to Esmeé. “What do we have to do?” Ienje popped up behind them, having been told of the danger from a crew member below deck.

“Well, the crew can man the cannons. Question is, who’s a good shot and who’s best at hand-to-hand?” A pained look crossed Raylan’s face.

“I’m a more-than-decent shot.”

“Great! I’ll get you a gun, then- new model, past test phases. Shouldn’t backfire or anything. Hope you don’t mind heights.” Ienje turned to go, beckoning for Raylan to follow. Aerwyn watched them go before turning to Esmeé. She sighed.

“Guess you’re with me. Hope you know how to handle yourself.” By now, the other ship was within firing distance, blissfully unaware of the ship catching up to them. With a turn of the wheel, the cannons were facing the enemy ship.

“Fire!”

 

* * *

 

After a brief dance in the sea with the enemy, _Thale’s Wrath_ and her crew emerged victorious. Keagan brought them alongside her, and the grapples were out, pulling the ships together. The gunfire from above was reassuring- Raylan had her back, which was one less thing for Aerwyn to worry about. As soon as the two ships were close enough, Aerwyn grabbed a nearby rope swing and hurled herself through the air, donning armour and her customary mace as she went. She swooped in on the enemy captain like an angel of death, come from Brasa’s doorstep.

“Thale’s teats, that was my rope!” With a running start, Esmeé just managed to make it to the other ship. Unsheathing her saber with a war cry, she cut down as many of the enemy as she could. Eventually, those who were survivors laid down their weapons, not wanting to join the bodies on deck. Ienje strode over to her captain, nearly slipping on the blood-coated wood.

“Well that went well. What’re we gonna do with all of them?” Ienje gestured to the cowering forms of the Vontrolian sailors. Esmeé shrugged, at a loss, while Aerwyn approached the pair, still cloaked in fire, though it was dissipating. Esmeé and Ienje stared at her, eyes wide.

“That’s why you looked familiar! You’re- you’re _her!_ Aerwyn Medulla, the Carnaster! Brasa’s pits in hell!” Ienje gushed enthusiastically. “Which means, all of you- goddesses, how didn’t I see it!” She smacked her forehead. Esmeé was still staring at Aerwyn, which put the magyk-user ill at ease.

“What?” she snapped, not meaning to be harsh in her discomfort.

“I just… is there magyk for a hangover?”

 

* * *

 

Raucous laughter echoed through the ship, candle light reflecting off of faces and creaking wood. Some of the crew, including the captain and first mate, sat with drinks in hand, regaling the stowaway group with stories of their conquests. The Vontrolian sailors sat cramped in a nearby cell.

“An’ then, like a bat outta Brasa’s very own home, Ienje took off! She went goddesses know where, an’ I haven’t seen ‘er since!” Esmeé slurred. Ienje grabbed the cup out of her hand immediately.

“That’s enough for you, Jacobse.” Esmeé teared up at the words.

“Sometimes I can still hear her voice…” she sniffled. Those drunk enough to believe her became the entertainment of the rest. A few more moments passed before Ienje broke it up.

“Someone needs to take watch over these cowards, and most of you are piss-poor drunk. To bed, all of you.” Ienje settled herself in, ready for a long night. Zelera sidled up next to her, book in hand.

“Figured you could use company.” She smiled. The pair said their goodnights and listened to everyone else’s as well.

“Behave, you two.” Aerwyn, to Hayme and Raylan.

“Your hair is so pretty… pretty magyk lady.” Esmeé, to Aerwyn, being pulled away by Keagan and Serrah.

“Good luck.” A passing crew member to Ienje.

“You got this?” Aerwyn, to Zelera.

Finally, the studious duo were surrounded by only silence, and Zelera found this a perfect opportunity to question the girl.

“So…”

“You want to know how this will work. Are we going to let you stay? Are we going to drop you on the nearest island with little to no provisions?” Zelera paused, face a little sheepish, and nodded. “Well, you can certainly pull your own weight around here, so I see no reason to not let you stay. And Esmeé won’t have a problem with it, though she’ll act like she will. You don’t _seem_ like bad people.” Ienje shrugged. “You can stay. Not forever, of course, but I don’t think you’ll need forever. We’ll take you where you need to go. Maybe, allies?” Zelera grinned at that, sticking out her hand.

“I _definitely_ like the sound of that.”

 

* * *

 

Aerwyn settled into her hammock, listening to the sounds around her. They wove together to create a melody that you would expect to hear in Thale’s very own court. Even Raylan’s snoring was taking on a sort of rhythm, and listening to it sent Aerwyn into the realm of dreams.

 

* * *

 

Zelera looked up from her book; the sailors were sleeping, and Ienje was nodding off. She took the keys, which were dangerously close to the cell, and threw them across the room. She’d read enough knockoff action stories to know that was a danger. Her joints popping, she headed to her hammock to catch some much needed shuteye.

 

* * *

 

Raylan snored away peacefully, taking Hayme’s mind off of the last ship she’d been on. Bad memories refusing to stay in the past were a problem for the girl quite often. Raylan and his positivity helped, distracting her as much as he could. But he usually had no trouble falling asleep. Hayme sighed, eyes travelling to the small window nearby, watching the moon.

 

* * *

 

Naranta stirred when she felt her hammock sway as someone tried to join her. She rolled onto her back to help distribute her weight. Zelera curled against her side. With the help of the sedatives, Naranta was asleep once her back hit the hammock. Zelera smiled into her shoulder blade as sleep overtook them.

 

* * *

 

Esmeé wobbled to her bed with Serrah’s help, already dressed in her night clothes. As the scout tried to lay her down, Esmeé pulled her into the bed.

“Captain-” Serrah tried to protest, but Esmeé was already passed out. Serrah struggled for a few more moments before succumbing to sleep.

 

* * *

 

Ienje woke with a start, the space next to her empty and cold. Her neck was cramped and the prisoner’s were passed out. It couldn’t hurt to leave them be; after all, the sun was just barely peeking over the horizon. The scouts would switch shifts in a moment, as would the helmsman. As for Ienje, she was getting a proper bit of rest.


End file.
